The 70th Annual Hunger Games: Trial by Water
by Fiona Vanyel
Summary: Silk is a Career, trained to compete in and win the Games. She gains her slot in the 70th Annual Games, along with a certain tribute from District Four - Annie Cresta. See the Games from the perspective of a District One Career.


**A/N...**

This is a one-shot. It takes place during the 70th Annual Hunger Games (for fans, that's the game Annie Cresta won). The spoilers are minimal and limited to Annie's backstory. I think the rest will explain itself as you go along.

Enjoy, and may the odds be ever in your favor.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _The Hunger Games_, Annie Cresta, or any of the concepts in this story. I only "own" this particular version.

* * *

My stylist's face, adorned by green tribal tattoos beneath one eye on a base of dyed-purple skin, disappears bit by bit as I rise in the cylinder that is the tunnel taking me to the surface. I clench my hands into tight fists, take a deep breath. This is it. The Arena. I'm about to enter the Arena. I close my eyes and let the breath out with a _whoosh._ This is what I've been training for. This is what I volunteered for. I take stock of my body in the inky blackness. My muscles are hard, made strong from years of training. My long gold-streaked hair is tethered back in a tight braid. Beauty may have been one of my strong points in the preliminaries, surrounded by my cloud of silky hair, but the Arena isn't a place for such frivolity. It's a place for death and hard decisions. Father made sure I'm ready for this. As a victor, he made sure to impress upon me the prestige of winning the Games.

A gust of warm, dry air brushes my face. I open my eyes as I rise out of the cylinder in the ground. There in the center stands the Cornucopia, gleaming gold in the bright sunlight. The Cornucopia is Life and a shot at victory, if only you don't get your life spilled before you reach it. Backpacks, weapons, everything a tribute would need to survive the Games fan out from the Cornucopia. They're pretty heavy on the weapons, especially inside the Cornucopia. I crouch and glance around the circle for my fellow tributes. The two idiots from Twelve flank me on either side. They're both slightly emaciated and scared-looking. Their time on Capitol food didn't do them a hell of a lot of good. Easy kills. One of the Eleven tributes is four spaces to my left – the boy. He's scrawny but he has a wily look in his eyes. He might be a problem. Ah, there's one of the Two tributes, the girl. She's grinning and when she sees me looking her way, gives me a nod. I return it. And there's the boy from Three. He's staring at the Cornucopia like it's his only hope. Probably is. He can't wield any of the weapons to save his life. The pathetic girl from Eight is glancing behind her. She'll probably bolt. I can't see Shine anywhere, which probably means he's on the other side of the Cornucopia. I take stock of what bits of the Arena I can see. The area around the Cornucopia is bare, but just past it are long, tall grasses bent slightly from the wind blowing. Farther off from that are tall rock outcroppings and cliff faces in one direction. The land slopes down opposite that, settling into a landscape that looks a little like a savanna. Trees scatter across it, some in small groups but most just individual trees standing on their own. I glance to the remaining two sides, in front of and behind me. In front of me there's more grasslands blending slightly with outcroppings of rock and trees up on those outcroppings. Behind me is more of the same. I'm pretty sure there's a glint of blue behind me, probably a river. From the Games Father has told me of, there's normally a water source somewhere.

I return my attention to the Cornucopia. All this observation happens in just a matter of moments. The countdown is down to the final ten seconds.

Nine. Eight. The Twelve tribute to my left swallows and wraps her arms around herself. Easy pickings.

Seven. Six. The Two tribute – Ember, I think they said her name was? – laughs and drops into a crouch like me.

Five. Four. I zero in on a particularly nasty looking knife with a serrated edge and a black handle. Mine.

Three. Two. The boy from Four – Calen, I think – stares intently at a long blade resembling a butcher's knife and shifts from one foot to the other.

One. The cannon boom resounds across the Arena.

I bolt. I've trained for this run. I am the first to reach the Cornucopia. I leap over one bag, another, another, then the knife! I scoop it up and whirl, simultaneously dropping into a low crouch. Another wicked knife catches my attention. I snag that one too. There comes the boy from Three. Instinct snaps into action and the second blade flies from my hand. He hits the ground, my blade protruding from his throat. A spear finds its way into my hand. The girl from Six grabs a backpack, turns to run, and collapses. Calen pulls his knife out of her stomach and ducks. I do too, and a knife clatters off the Cornucopia where my head had been. I heft the spear and look around for some glimpse of who threw the blade, spot the girl from Seven. She tries to dodge a swipe from Ember; the blade slices her upper arm and she stumbles with a cry. I haul back and let loose the spear. It finds its place between her ribs and she goes down.

I allow myself a grin. It's a Bloodbath all right. And here I was worried I wouldn't have a glorious, true Bloodbath. Father was right; the Bloodbath never disappoints. The other tribute from Six disappears into the tall grasses towards the cliffs. The boy from Ten latches onto a backpack. Before he can run with it, the girl from Nine grabs it and tries to make off with it. They struggle for a moment before the girl from Nine plunges a knife into his gut. A split second later Ember's blade plunges into her back just left of her spine. I laugh giddily as Ember pulls the blade back out.

The remaining tributes either grab something and run or just plain run in one direction or another. I see several more head in the direction of the cliffs. They'll be a little harder to hunt. I step out of the Cornucopia and cast a cautious glance around.

Shine's deep laugh greets me and I laugh again. "How'd we do?" I call out.

Ember lifts a hand and winks. "Let's hear the cannons first," she says.

The first resounding cannon boom goes off a moment later, followed by five others in quick succession. We wait for more. They don't come.

"I don't know about the rest of you," I say with a slight frown, "but I feel cheated. Only six?"

Shine shrugs. "Maybe they were more scared of us than hopeful of supplies."

Something rustles off to my left. A patch of grass blows in the wind like all the others, but I catch a hint of movement. A pair of blue eyes fix on me and widen.

I grin. The tribute bolts.

I heft my blade; Shine holds out a hand. A boy appears from behind the Cornucopia, spear in hand. He takes a few running steps, braces, and throws the spear with deadly accuracy. The tribute gasps and falls, spear protruding from his back. The boy jogs over, braces a foot on the corpse, and pulls his spear out.

I lower my knife and adjust my grip on the handle. Another cannon booms. I feel slightly vindicated.

The boy with the spear heads back our way, and I recognize him as the boy from Four. Calen. I glance around the group. Myself and Shine from One, Ember and Slice from Two, Calen from Four, and the girl from Five. She showed promise in training, so we took her in. She hasn't made a kill yet, though, and I'm beginning to question her mettle. We can take care of that later if it becomes necessary. I cast it aside for the moment.

A faint rustling comes from behind me, in the Cornucopia. I look back. A small, slender young woman emerges from it – the girl from Four. Her dark hair flows around her shoulders in a cloud, and her wide dark green eyes take in the surroundings with careful appraisal. A now familiar pang of jealousy curls my lip. She's easily one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. I'll take great pleasure severing her pretty little head from her perfect sun-tanned shoulders when the time comes for the final battle. For now, we're allies.

"Seven now," Shine comments. He laughs and claps me on the shoulder. "Cheer up, Silk – it just means we'll have better hunting!"

I turn my attention to him and adopt my most dazzling smile. "And the odds are in our favor," I purr.

Our pack gathers the supplies and weapons from the Cornucopia and places them about a hundred yards from it. We'll move to a more suitable location once we find one, I figure. Once we've got the supplies situated, we station Ember and Slice at the camp. The hovercraft swoop in once we're all away from the Cornucopia and fly out the bodies. Then comes my favorite part – hunting.

We still have several hours before nightfall, and we need to kill any tributes we can in that time. We don't know how big this Arena is – they differ – so the longer we let the others wander, the farther they may get. And that makes for very uninteresting Games.

We head towards the savanna below the Cornucopia's tail. The hunt lasts probably two hours before Shine motions to us and points to a cluster of about five trees, growing taller than the others in the environment. I squint, trying to see what's so remarkable about a natural facet of the landscape. Then I see it – the gleam of water between the trees. I see the need immediately. My mentor Cashmere warned me, and Father warned me before her, that water is a precious commodity in the Arena. It should be stored and preserved carefully. _Make camp near water._ It's a command as old as the Games.

Shine and I lock eyes. I glance at Calen, who nods. Shine catches Viv and the girl from Four's gazes in succession, and they offer him nods in return as well. We move forward as one, in a unit. Quiet. Weapons at the ready.

Careful examination proves no one is in the copse of trees, and we all relax marginally. I become aware of just how light the water flask I retrieved from one of the backpacks truly is. I find myself in a crouch, about to scoop up the water, and freeze. I cast a look back over my shoulder at the other tributes. "Viv. You try the water," I bark.

She looks taken aback and pulls away but Shine catches my drift and pushes her back towards us. Reluctantly, she kneels, dips a hand in the water, and drinks. We watch for any sign of abnormality. She appears fine. I scoop up a handful of the water myself and drink. No abnormal taste, nothing out of the ordinary. I fill my flask. The others do the same.

We abandon hunting in favor of moving camp to the copse and the water it provides. It seems to be a natural oasis of sorts, a spring welling into a pool. We make camp there, and by the time we've moved everything, night has fallen. We give hunting to the next day.

At nightfall, we lie on the ground and stare up at the stars. Right on schedule the Capitol's anthem plays and the faces of the tributes killed in the Bloodbath flash across the sky. The boy from Three, the girls from Six, Seven and Nine, the boy from Ten, and the girl from Twelve. No more kills by anyone it seems. Then again, we're the pack to avoid. We'll be the ones thinning the ranks. I grin. I love these Games already.

We spend the night alternating our guard, always two at a time as a precaution. The girl from Four sticks close to Calen all night, like she just can't _bear_ to be apart from him. Feh. Little bitch.

The next day dawns hot and dry. We eat from the supplies in the backpacks and head farther across the savanna to hunt. The pack today consists of myself, Shine, Ember, Slice, and Viv. We've left Calen and the girl – Annie, he mentioned her name is – to guard our supplies. She doesn't seem to mind. I think she's clever, but she probably doesn't like to kill. Funny trait in a Career.

I think back to the Reaping. We don't have many in my district who wouldn't consider it an honor to be chosen for the Games. If you don't want to be chosen, don't worry; there's no shortage of volunteers. I am one of those, as is Shine. I remember my Father's beaming face when we said farewell in the chamber before I rode the train to the Capitol, the way he slapped me on the back and laughed merrily, then cautioned me of the dangers of the Arena. I won't fail him. I'll come home a victor, just like him.

After several hours of hunting, I see footprints in some loose dirt. We follow them, quiet and aware we might scare our prey off if we're not careful. A patch of grass off to my left rustles. I shift course and track that way. I can almost smell the blood of the tribute and I lick my lips. When I'm just a foot away, the boy spots me and bolts. I am too fast, though, and I swiftly pounce on him and take him down. He barely has time for a startled gasp before I drive my blade deep between his ribs. I pull it out, grab his head, and give it a sharp twist. It snaps with a satisfying crack. The cannon booms a moment later, announcing my victory.

I stand and wipe my blade off on the boy's pants. Easy. Too easy. I want a challenge.

The others whoop and swoop in on me, slapping me on the back and laughing. I laugh too; it may not have been what I wanted, but it's still a kill.

They show his face in the sky tonight. He was the boy from Seven. We've eliminated that district from the running, but they were never really competition to begin with. A shred of worry surfaces in the back of my mind. The boy from Eleven. He might be a problem. The sly one.

Two more days pass in the same manner, only without any kills. I'm sure they're getting bored in the Capitol. They like a show, and we're not really giving them much. But it's not for lack of trying. After all, we hunt every day. Sometime during our fourth day in the Arena, another cannon booms. When the faces appear in the night sky, I see it's the boy from Twelve.

The next day we venture towards the cliffs. We're all getting a little restless.

"We need to find the boy from Eleven," I tell Shine.

He nods. "He's a concern. He might be a problem." He scans several nearby rocky outcroppings. "Did you watch him in training?"

I nod. "Yeah. He didn't do too much, just played with a few weapons and was in general mediocre. He scored an 8, though."

"Is that what's worrying you? The 8?" Shine brushes his blond hair out of his eyes.

"Whatever the Gamemakers saw that we didn't is what worries me," I reply. That's the thing – he's an unknown. We know what to expect from tributes in One, Two, and Four. The other districts rarely give a good showing with a few scattered exceptions. Three and Five are sometimes all right. But Eleven and Twelve are never a problem. A boy from Eleven scoring an 8…well, it worries me. He's a variable we can't account for, and I don't like it.

I glance over at Annie, walking alongside us with her dark hair now tied back with a bit of cloth from the packs. She's got a knowing look in those eyes. She observes too closely. I scowl. Calen moves about ten feet out to the left, examining rock structures closely for hiding tributes. He grips a spear tightly in one hand. The butcher knife he'd eyed at the Bloodbath sits in a sheath against his hip. He's already proven himself brutal with that blade; I saw what he did to one of the other tributes at the Bloodbath with it.

We travel several hours into the rocky terrain above the Cornucopia's opening. The land slopes steeply upward fairly quickly and grows rough. Plant life is tough and grows surprisingly strong in the rugged environment. I have a moment of admiration for the tributes who had the sense to head this way; a big pack like ours might have some trouble hiding among the rocks and growth, but for one or two tributes this environment is perfect.

We reach the crest of one of the rocky slopes around noon by the height of the sun. Shine stands beside me surveying the area. We can't really see anything but more rocks and tough plants. I sigh. "This blows. When're we gonna find those tributes?" I complain.

"Maybe we should hunt at night."

The suggestion from Annie startles me. I look back at her. She's quietly staring at a large rocky outcropping a little ways down the ridge from us, intent. She turns her attention to me, fixing me with those dark green eyes that stand out so vividly in her face.

"We have the night vision glasses. They'll be sleeping at night. Perfect time to hunt."

I see the logic in her words, but the fact that they're coming from _her_ bothers me. I should have thought of hunting at night. I offer her a sweet smile. "Oh, yes, that's a _wonderful_ idea Annie," I simper. I know I'm supposed to be playing to the sponsors, but I can't help the bite that creeps into my voice.

Calen picks up where I leave off. "We can send Ember and Slice out tonight, since they were on guard duty today. And we'll guard for the night."

Shine grins, the grin I know so well. He's thinking of death and blood. "They'll never see it coming," he whispers.

I find myself excited for the bloodshed despite myself, and I giggle.

We move along the crest towards the rocky outcropping Annie had been staring at. Having a new plan doesn't mean we should abandon hunting for the day after all. We reach the outcropping after about five minutes of walking. Something orange gleams on top of the large flat stone, and I creep that way. I drop into a crouch. It appears to be a scrap of fabric. A tribute's been this way.

A shriek freezes my muscles. Something hits the stone with a strange combination of a thump and a squish. My hand clenches on my serrated knife. I lift my body, balancing on the balls of my feet and bracing one hand on the stone, then twist to look behind me. Something lumpy rolls awkwardly across the stone towards me. I stare at it in disbelief as it rolls face-up – Calen's head. His eyes are wide-open in a blank death stare.

The boom of the cannon snaps me out of my paralysis. I fling my body into a twist to get my hip under me and flip my blade out of its sheath and over my head. Just in time – Calen's long butcher knife meets my blade in a slicing motion that probably would have lifted my head from my shoulders just as cleanly as Calen's. The face that is suddenly just a couple feet from mine is one I recognize – the boy from Eleven. _I knew he'd be trouble!_ I grip the handle of my blade tighter and struggle to keep him from getting the knife any closer to me. Annie shrieks again, and this time it has a note of hysteria in it.

The boy has a look of grim determination in his eyes. Something flashes close to his hip; my eyes flicker down. He's got a second blade!

Time slows as Father trained me to make it. I make a split second decision. I whip my right arm up and across my midsection. His second smaller blade embeds itself to the hilt in my forearm. I grimace at the pain but twist the arm, wrenching the blade out of his hand. I shove my injured arm into his chest. He's not a big guy so it throws him off balance and I'm able to get him off of me. I scramble to my feet. My arm throbs but I push the pain aside. I'll have _his _head.

The boy from Eleven gets his feet under him, takes one look at me advancing, and bolts.

"Hey!" I yell. I take off after him. I hear running footsteps behind me – Shine.

The boy disappears behind a large pile of rocks, and when we round the corner, he's nowhere to be found. I curse, loudly and colorfully. I yank the little blade out of my arm, and blood spills to the stones.

"We need to kill him," I snarl to Shine. "I want his blood. I want him dead!"

Shine just nods. I stalk back towards the rocky outcropping. The hovercraft has already taken Calen's body and head. Annie sits on the rock, knees pulled to her chest, rocking back and forth and crying. She doesn't see us walk up. I walk over to her and stare down at her. She's useless. Useless! She just sits there and cries. She didn't even try to help us chase down her district counterpart's killer.

My lips lift into a snarl. "Get up." She doesn't move, doesn't acknowledge me standing over her. "Get up," I snarl again and nudge her with my foot. When she doesn't respond, I lose my temper. "Get up, you stupid little whore!" I scream. I kick her sharply in the ribs.

She turns those dark eyes on me. The look on her face…I can't even describe it properly. It's pure terror mixed with grief and shock and something not sane any more. I don't care though.

I draw back to kick her again. "Get up!"

She shrieks and scrambles away from me, crabwalking. Fitting for the girl from the fishing district. Nothing but a fish flopping on dry land. Useless. Better dead than alive.

"Get up or I'll kill you too," I say, beyond any care for the alliance, just hating her. She flips over onto her stomach and takes off. I glare after her, fists clenched at my sides. I become aware of the blood flowing down my arm. I throw a glare back at Shine. "Let's go."

He nods. We return to camp. By the time we get there, I'm a little light-headed from the blood loss and have to sit down. We take care of my gash the best we can, stemming the blood flow and getting fluids into me. Much as Ember, Slice, and Shine might think taking me out in a moment of weakness could be a benefit, they know full well I could take whoever tried to kill me down with me. No problem.

I'm stationed as a guard for the time being due to the blood loss. Ember and Slice go out hunting that night. Sometime around midnight, another cannon booms. They return triumphant at dawn and declare the girl from Three to be dead. She'd been dumb enough to sleep out in the open without the protection of even a stand of trees.

Her face flashes across the sky that night. Her name appears to have been Kanna. She was lovely, too. I'm glad she's dead.

The next two days and nights I spend on guard duty. The boy from Five, Viv's district counterpart, dies though we don't know what of. His face splashes across the sky. Viv shows no emotional response, though I watch her closely for one. If she goes nuts like Annie did, I'm just slicing her head off. Apparently the psycho fisher-girl is still alive, since I haven't seen her face in the sky or heard a cannon boom for her. It means I'll have the pleasure of killing her myself. I allow myself a small smile for that.

After three days of recovery, I decide it's time to hunt again. The other tributes don't object; they can see the bloodlust in my eyes. I want to spill blood. Sitting there waiting for something to happen isn't earning me any sponsors.

The next evening, Ember and I go hunting.

* * *

The boy at my feet is gasping for breath. His chest rises and falls in rapid succession as he struggles to suck in oxygen. I consider leaving him, remember that his fellow district tribute is still alive out there somewhere. She could find him and help him with a sponsor gift. I can't risk that. I drop into a crouch. His face has almost turned blue from asphyxiation; his hands claw at the vine tied around his neck. He might get it undone yet.

I flip out the knife I snagged in the bloodbath. I run my finger down the back of the blade and smile. "I can't just leave you, you know," I purr. "You're too much of a liability. So I'll have to take you out."

His eyes bug and he makes a gurgling noise that may be supplication. He's pleading with the wrong girl. I have no mercy.

I trace the tip of my blade along his stomach. He gurgles again, desperately. I grin and plunge the knife into his stomach, drag it across, leaving a gaping wound. He thrashes for a moment, blood pouring from the wound, then stills. His eyes glass over. The cannon booms. I swipe my blade off on his shirt and stand.

Ember laughs and beckons. "Shall we go on?"

I laugh in return. "Of course."

Ember told me about a river she and Slice glimpsed a few days ago while hunting. We suspect there may be tributes hiding near it for the water, and we're on our way to hunt them down.

I'm about to start up the hill when something in the back of my mind prickles. Something's wrong. I freeze. Ember looks at me, wide-eyed. The ground begins to tremble.

I bolt for the nearest large, flat rock and fling myself down on it. Ember's body thumps down beside me. And then the trembling really starts. The earth shakes beneath us until I fear it's going to split in two. Rocks tumble down the cliff below us and pieces of our rock break and roll down the hillside. A rift opens up in the earth ten yards farther along the ridge and a mass of earth slides down the hill. I shut my eyes and will it to stop.

It does, but not immediately. When the trembling ends I lie there a moment longer until some other instinct shoves me to my feet. Piles of earth and stone have settled to the ground below. The entire landscape around has changed, and I wonder how our stone somehow survived. A Gamemaker trick, maybe? I'm not sure.

A new sort of rumbling sets my nerves afire. This one has a direction – uphill, towards the glimpsed river. I spin to face the sound.

"Oh my god," Ember whispers from behind me.

A wall of water pours down the Arena towards us. The river must have led into a dam, and the earthquake…

It roars as it approaches, and we have bare seconds.

My last thought before water completely engulfs me is that I never learned to swim. Then the wall of water slams into me and I fall, seemingly endlessly. My head slams into something hard and I gasp. My lungs fill with water.

The world goes black.


End file.
